


Tell me that you want me, tell me that you need me (Tell me 'cause I'd like to know)

by felicityremarkablesmoak (lookatallthemoresigive)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flight Attendants, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, international flight au, oliver queen is the worst flight attendant in the history of ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookatallthemoresigive/pseuds/felicityremarkablesmoak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Felicity had actually paid attention to the pre-flight safety demonstration, so she's completely sure it didn't mention anything about weird flashing collars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell me that you want me, tell me that you need me (Tell me 'cause I'd like to know)

**Author's Note:**

> While doing a two sentence fic ask meme, a friend gave me a prompt: Oliver and Felicity sitting next to each other on an international flight.  
> Things spiraled from there. Hope you enjoy!

Felicity was in first class bliss (she never thought airplane seats could be so comfortable, and the seat next to her was empty) when a voice interrupted her tranquility.

“Good afternoon ma’am, is there anything you’d like to drink?”

“Hmm?” Felicity was so engrossed in the FBI database she was combing through that even the flight attendant's pleasant voice couldn't bring her back to reality.

“Is there anything you want?” Felicity finally looked up from her tablet and wow was he handsome, in a my-muscles-have-muscles-that-I shall-use-to-build-us-a-cottage-in-the-mountains, romance novel sort of way.

“You.”

The flight attendant tilted his head.

“Did I just say that out loud? I’m so sorry. Ginger ale. I want ginger ale, please. I was going to get wine, but now I don’t think I can trust myself. And I’m babbling. Sorry, er—” she squinted at his nametag “—Oliver, Ray—Raymond? I always find it a little creepy when you know someone’s name but they don’t know yours. Mine’s Felicity, by the way. Felicity Smoak. Which I guess you don't really need to know, but—”

Oliver Raymond’s chuckling thankfully put her rambling to a halt, but his smile seemed miraculously genuine as he wrote down her order. “Be right back, Felicity.”

 

“Here you go.” Oliver the Hot Flight Attendant did return rather quickly and Felicity couldn’t decide if that was a good thing.

“Thanks, and I’m really sorry about before, I’m not usually like that. I mean I do flirt with people. But not while they’re on the job. And usually a lot better than that.”

“First time flying first class?”

“That obvious?”

“I’m good at reading people. Actually,” Oliver lowered his voice until he was practically whispering in her ear, “this is my first day on the job.”

“I’m happy to be your first. I did not say that. Let’s agree that I did not say that and move on.”

"Okay." Oliver smiled his now patented ‘I would laugh but that'd be rude so I'll just smile instead’ smile. "I—"

A light nearby dinged, and Oliver frowned. "Excuse me for a moment."

It really did seem like a moment, and in no time he was back under the guise of delivering her ginger ale and asking for her meal order, but that devolved into a fifteen-minute conversation about food. Some of the other passengers were giving them glares (or checking Oliver out) but she ignored them. It wasn’t like he was the only flight attendant on this plane.

“You’ve never had ham before?” Oliver seemed amazed.

“I’m Jewish, and my mom was weirdly strict about not having bacon. I’d rebel and eat pepperoni pizza when I was with my friends, though,” she said conspiratorially.

“Felicity Smoak, I would never have pegged you to have a dangerous side.” He honest-to-god smirked at her, and flirting with hot flight attendants was not part of her travel itinerary.

But really, he had no idea.

At last, someone pointedly dinged their call button, and away Oliver (rather reluctantly, considering it was his job) left.

 

“So,” Felicity said as Oliver sat next to her an hour later (is he allowed to do that? Probably not, but Oliver Raymond seemed like the type of person who could get away with it), “why did you become a flight attendant?”

“I wanted to…see the world. It’s been nice so far. What about you? Vacationing in London?”

“I’m going over for work, actually. I got a _job offer that I couldn’t refuse_ ," Felicity said, deepening her voice to do an admittedly terrible Marlon Brando impression.

Oliver stared at her blankly.

“Congratulations?” He offered.

"It's from _The Godfather_."

"I don't watch a lot of TV."

A call button dinged two rows up. 

"Shouldn't you be serving other people?" Felicity finally asked, opening up a data scraping algorithm she had been tinkering with. "Not that I don’t love talking to you, but."

"Yeah, I probably should," Oliver said, sighing dramatically. “À bientôt, Miss Smoak."

"We're flying to London, not Paris," she called after him.   

His smile was probably on an international watch list.

 

Oliver made his rounds, checking in on her occasionally. Felicity rotated between watching him, watching in-flight movies, sleeping, and eating the food the flight kept bombarding her with like it was Thanksgiving. Sometimes her thoughts and her google search would drift to Walter Steele, her missing ex-boss, but she usually steered them back to pleasanter preoccupations, like Oliver. His fake customer service smile would transform into a real one whenever he walked near her _(You go, Smoak!_ ). It took her until the last hour of the flight to realize his attention was also, more subtly, on some guy a couple of rows up.

Hmm, had she misjudged the situation?

Felicity got up and approached the guy Oliver was looking at.

He was rather handsome, and his tailored Italian suit solidly pegged him as a first class regular, but something was off.

She “accidently” tripped and grabbed his armrest to stop her fall, trying to catch a glimpse of his laptop screen.

"Oops, sorry!"

"Watch where you're going," he grumbled.

_Okay, British._

He glanced around and furtively pulled his laptop closer, even though they were basically the only two awake.

_And secretive. Hmm._

She went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face.

"Get it together Smoak. You’re here for business, not to moon over cute flight attendants with charming smiles," she told herself sternly. She dried her hands and opened the door.

“Hello.” Dapper British Dude was standing outside wearing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So terribly sorry, but I’m going to need you as leverage. Just don’t do anything stupid and you won’t get your head blown off.”

“What?” Felicity looked down and realized she was now wearing a sort of electronic necklace that was flashing red. She looked back up and the man was gone.

She touched the metallic device attached to her neck. For once, Felicity had actually paid attention to the pre-flight safety demonstration, so she's completely sure it didn't mention anything about weird flashing collars.  _Necklace? Collar? Bomb Collar? Don’t panic, you need help. Oliver. You need to find Oliver._

 

Oliver was alone in the galley, cleaning up.

“Oliver.” He whirled around.

“Oliver, please, I don’t know what happened, but that British jerk you kept staring at just put this thing on my neck, and I don’t know what’s happening or what to do, oh my god this is a bomb collar isn’t it, I’m going to die. Of course I’m going to die on a plane, I should've known heights would do me in.” Felicity backed away until she was pressed against one of the counters.

“Felicity, stay calm,” Oliver said urgently. He came closer to investigate the collar until they were inches apart. The feel of his calloused hands on her neck cut through her panic and sent a warm flush throughout her body.

“God, this was a lot more fun in my daydreams. Then again, they didn't really include bomb collars. Oh my god I need to stop talking. Is this a bomb collar? How should you know? What is going on?" Felicity sucked in a ragged breath.

“Felicity, it is a bomb collar. Stay calm.” 

"Uh, does that guy happen to be an international jewel thief codename the Dodger?"

"How did you know that?"

"I've been keeping track of Interpol's most wanted list, it's kind of a recent hobby. Wait, how do you know it's him? Oliver? What are you, some kind of spy?"

He stopped his examination and looked into her eyes.

“I am,” he said quietly.

Felicity allowed herself a second to absorb the news. “That…makes a lot of sense. Like why you’re such a terrible flight attendant. Not complaining! And oh my god bomb collar. I’m currently wearing a bomb collar. Get away from me! There’s gotta be some way for me to get off this plane, or away from people.”

“No, I'm not letting you die,” Oliver said, and she wondered if he took Stubbornness 101 at whatever spy school he attended.

“I did. I kept failing Letting Uninvolved Civilians Die 302. Got me kicked out of four spy schools.”

At least she had gotten a spy with a sense of humor.

“There—there has to be some way to disable it…”

Oliver took out a screwdriver ( _where had he kept that?_ ) and began to tinker with the device.

“So, airport security a bit lax?”

“What?” His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and he was doing things with his tongue that she really shouldn’t have been thinking of at the moment.

“I’m just saying bomb collars are A-Okay, but try to bring on some shampoo and you’re on a government watch list? Doesn’t seem right.”

“I’ll be sure to give you the proper form to file a complaint.”

A few precious minutes later Oliver threw down the screwdriver.

“This isn’t working. The only way to get it off is to find him.”

 

They went back to his seat to find it completely empty, and the rest of first class quietly asleep.

“Figures,” Oliver muttered.

“Okay…so if I was an international criminal holding a plane hostage and needed a place to lie low, where would I be?”

The dim lighting gave Oliver's grim face an eerie glow. "You should return to your seat, Miss Smoak. I can handle this from here." 

"No."

"No?" Oliver said, and her shocked mind repeated him. _What was she thinking?!_

Maybe it was being awake at 4:43 a.m, thousands of feet in the air above a foreign land. Maybe it was because she didn't want to feel so helpless anymore. Maybe it was because if she died, the last thing she saw might as well be Oliver's face. Felicity planted her feet.

"Unless you're really committed to this lone wolf thing, you haven't contacted your team at all yet, even though you keep pressing your watch, which means your communications have probably been jammed. You need backup, and if this collar is being controlled by some sort of computer I can hack it. MIT, class of '09." 

Oliver's face turned stormy. He worked his jaw, looking from her to the aisle. At last, he took a deep breath.

“Come with me,” he said and grabbed her arm, dragging her away.

 

“Oliver, where?” She finally managed to get out a few minutes later as they stopped in front of a flight of stairs.

A flight attendant descended, looking at them curiously.

“Just do what I say,” he whispered as he slipped his hand into hers, and alarm bells started going off in Felicity’s head.

“Is everything okay?” The flight attendant asked politely, but her eyes screamed _what the heck are you doing new guy I’m going to kill you._

“I’m sorry; I know this is my first flight with the company, but my girlfriend,” he gave her hand a gentle squeeze— _Abort mission she did not sign on for this!—,_  “is on this flight and she has to be off as soon as the plane touches down, so this is the only time I’ll get to see her.” Oliver looked at Felicity adoringly, then turned pleadingly to the flight attendant.

Felicity looked away, beet red. _Overselling it a bit much, Mr. Superspy._

“Why is her necklace flashing?” The flight attendant asked suspiciously.

“Oh, this?” Felicity touched the bomb collar. “It’s one of those flashing electronic necklaces. I heard they’re all the rage in China now, so I had Ollie get me one, because he’s just the sweetest—”

“Please, Nancy?” Oliver interrupted, charming smile out in full force. “Only for a little bit, and it would mean the world to us.” He pulled their joined hands up to his chest, bringing her closer to him.

“—Alright, you crazy kids have fifteen minutes, make it count,” Nancy said at last, stepping off the stairs and moving aside.

“Thank you.” Oliver’s gratitude, at the very least, was genuine, and he finally let go of her, which was a relief, as Felicity wasn’t sure how much more of that she could take—

And then she felt herself being lifted into the air, and yes, Oliver was carrying her, bridal style. She let out a gasp of surprise but Oliver ignored it, quickly moving up the stairs like she weighed nothing, and Felicity held on for dear life.

Finally, they reached the top and Oliver put her down.

“Was—was that really necessary?”

“Was calling me Ollie necessary?”

“Hey, I was trying! Sorry I’m not some James Bond like you. I’m not used to this kind of stuff. Where are we anyways?”

“The bunks. They’re only available to the crew, and everyone else right now is on duty. It would be the perfect place. Let’s get searching.”

They searched the first rooms for a couple of minutes in silence until Felicity could no longer hold her babbling in.

“So, do that a lot?”

“Hmm?” Oliver gave one of the small rooms (which was really just a bed) a last glance over, his face screaming _mission mode_. He closed the curtain and joined her outside.

“Carry people?” They started to walk down the narrow hallway.

“Well, it's usually ju—” Oliver stopped in his tracks and tackled her onto the nearest open bed. Before her mind could fully process the compromising situation she was in and churn out something extremely inappropriate she looked up. The Dodger was sitting with his back turned in one of the beds further down, the curtain drawn.

“ _Stay out of sight_ ,” Oliver mouthed.

Felicity nodded, her throat going dry. Oliver got off the bed and quietly closed the curtain, leaving it open enough that she could still somewhat see.

He drew his gun _(He had a gun? Of course he had a gun_ ) and slowly approached the door.

“Freeze! You’re under arrest,” Oliver said as he stepped in.

“Oh please, you aren't stupid enough to actually shoot that thing. Besides, you don't have any jurisdiction right now, let alone the upper hand. You were such a terrible flight attendant, it was so obvious. The only person you talked to was that blonde. A rather, _inquisitive_ one at that. Luckily I had the foresight to collar her. I assume she works with you.”

“She has nothing to do with this. If you press that button, this whole plane is going down.”

“Nonsense, I calibrated these collars specifically for traveling. It’ll only kill her, we’ll be fine. Of course, once I get off this aircraft and you hold it hostage with this other, far more powerful bomb I have, then I’d be worried about the plane blowing up.”

“That is not going to happen,” Oliver growled.

Suddenly, Felicity saw Oliver throw something ( _a knife? Was he a walking armory? How’d he get all these weapons on the plane?_ ). The Dodger grunted in pain. Oliver made to grab the control fob but the Dodger produced a long black stick ( _stun baton?_ ) and raised it. Felicity closed her eyes. She heard what sounded like the buzz of a Taser and a body dropping.

“Felicity.”

She cautiously crept into the room and saw to her relief Oliver kneeling over the Dodger, stun baton in hand. He had the Dodger’s fob in his other hand and clicked the release button. A sound emitted and Felicity’s bomb collar fell to the floor.

“Oh thank Jesus,” she breathed, touching her neck, and incorrectly crossed herself.

"Aren't you Jewish?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“It’s not over yet. He mentioned something about a bigger bomb, and we need to find it.”

“Right.” The fear and panic settled back in.

After quickly patting him down, Oliver dragged the Dodger off the bed, and they frantically tore the tiny rest area apart.

“I think I found something!” Oliver said, opening up an air vent and carefully taking out a black metal box.

Felicity moved over to him.

“Wait a minute; I actually recognize this design. I might have worked on something similar to this when I was doing research as an undergrad,” she said as she picked up the box, which had a blinking red light. "Wait, does that make me an accessory? I really hope he stole it."

“Can you disarm it?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never really worked on the hardware before, I might—”

“Felicity.”

“Okay, yes, I got this. I just need that screwdriver, give me a minute.”

Felicity took the screwdriver and started to fumble with the box, and the blinking red light suddenly turned into a countdown.

“Felicity,” Oliver warned.

“It’s okay, I—” Felicity’s tinkering became more frantic.

The countdown abruptly stopped.

“Did you disarm it?”

“Yes, the bomb is shut down.”

Oliver and Felicity looked at each other.

They started hugging, Felicity laughing in disbelief, and Oliver shaking his head.

After a while, Oliver pulled back and gave her an inscrutable look. He started to say something as he moved his head forward ( _Was he going to tell her something? Kiss her?_ ).

“Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. We are going to be landing soon at Gatwick International Airport. Please return to your seats and buckle in. Thank you for flying British Airways and I hope you had a pleasant flight.”

The loudspeaker intrusion burst whatever bubble they had been in.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Felicity said. 

Oliver pulled away and stood up, reaching down to help her back on her feet.

He helped Felicity return to her seat (she heroically resisted the urge to comment on the lack of bridal carrying involved) and left to go join the crew, who probably now (rightly) thought he was the worst flight attendant ever.

Felicity fastened her seatbelt and closed her eyes, gripping her armrest.

_Okay, waiting for that freak out._

 

The freak out hit her two hours later as she sat in what she assumed was an interrogation room. She had finished giving her description of what happened and the shock had finally worn off.

“Oh my god I had a bomb collar on. I was going to die. There was a bomb; everyone on the plane was going to die. Oh my god.”

“Miss Smoak, do you need anything? Agent Queen instructed that we give you whatever you request, so long as you remain here,” the man in the suit (she had tried calling him G-Man, but he didn’t find it too amusing) kindly told her.

“Ice cream. Mint chip. A whole tub, please,” she said immediately.

The man raised an eyebrow.

“I stress eat.”

 

Felicity was halfway down the tub when Oliver (last name not Raymond, according to G-Man) appeared.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, spoon in hand.

“Go ahead.” Felicity gestured to the tub with her spoon.

Oliver took a bite and made a face that currently she did not have time to deal with.

“Mmm. This is my favorite ice cream flavor. Good taste.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved our lives.”

“No, but what you did on that plane was incredible, Felicity. How would you like to join us as an analyst?”

“How, why—I didn’t think the CIA operated like this.”

“We’re not exactly CIA. It’s more of a subdivision called ARGUS. Top secret, I probably shouldn’t have even told you the name.

“Let me guess, you’re off the record, cause-an-international-incident-if-things-go-wrong type?”

“More or less. But what I can say for sure is that we help people, and save thousands of lives. How would you like to be a hero?”

Felicity stabbed her spoon into the half-finished ice cream and pushed it away. The last person who asked her that ended up dead.

“I don’t really see myself as much of a hero,” she said at last.

“I didn’t see myself as one either when I first started out, but I’ve been able to do some real good. I saw your face on that airplane. I know you enjoyed saving the day.”

“So this is how you guys recruit? Some ice cream and flirty-flirt?”

“What?” Oliver looked offended, but she wasn’t exactly going to trust the facial expressions of a guy who lied for a living. “This is something we’ve never done. A civilian has never been involved like this in one of our operations. I can pull up records to prove it if you want. You’re remarkable, Felicity.”

“Thank you for remarking on it, but I do have a very nice job offer already, one that doesn’t involve me getting almost blown up.”

“Merlyn Global? We ran a background check on you, of course. The company may seem great on paper, but it’s been involved in some pretty shady stuff.”

“Says the guy who has probably killed people.”

“I have, and I will again if the greater good calls for it. But you wouldn’t. You’d be safe, out of danger, at most a voice in my ear during missions. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please. Just think about it.” He touched her shoulder briefly and walked away.

 

Felicity sighed and rubbed her temples.

ARGUS’s very generous offer was strewn across her hotel bed. She looked at her tablet and grimaced. Oliver had been right, Merlyn Global had some very shady dealings (and a nice firewall, but one rather painless to hack).

ARGUS was the more lucrative job offer, with bigger incentives such as a research budget, drool-worthy top of the line computers, and the possibility of seeing Oliver on a daily basis. Merlyn Global, on the other hand, offered security, stability, and a normal life.

Felicity couldn’t believe she was even considering it.

Her last foray into heroism had led to death and heartbreak. Was she really going to let a pretty face and a hot body talk her into her constant danger?

Yet ARGUS seemed the type to have a global database with information beyond even the president’s security clearance. If she had any hope of finding out what truly happened to Walter, this would be it.

A knock on her hotel door interrupted her thoughts and Felicity figured she’s lucky they waited nine hours so she could get some sleep. She opened the door and in walked the devil himself. Oliver had changed into a dangerously soft white t-shirt and tan leather jacket and really, a girl needed some warning before seeing something like that.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked, gently touching her shoulder.

“Fine thanks, Mr. Queen.” She moved her shoulder out of his grasp and sat down at the small table. Oliver sat down across from her. Felicity quietly sipped her coffee.

The table was kind of cramped, which didn’t help things. Oliver’s bulky frame in the small space would have been comical to Felicity if she wasn’t so annoyed with him. At the very least the table was better than sitting on the bed.

“What are you thinking?” Oliver finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

“I’m thinking that I should have picked the airplane company that had spontaneous singing of classic Disney songs, not the one with an internationally wanted jewel thief who uses bomb collars and stun batons for fun.”

Oliver smiled. “Very true. But I'm glad you chose this one. You saved a lot of lives.”

Felicity idly fiddled with her tablet. “Still trying to butter me up, Agent Queen?”

“It’s true. Whatever you decide, I’m glad to have met you, Felicity Smoak.”

“For some reason, I believe you. You’re an international superspy, and I still feel like I can trust you. Why is that?” Felicity laughed self-deprecatingly.

"I just have one of those faces."

Felicity looked away.

“I'm sorry. It's because you can, Felicity,” he said softly, covering her hand with his own.

Felicity gulped, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Someone I worked for is missing. Well, they claim he isn’t, but, I thought they were hiding something so I tried, uh, looking into it, and all I got was unceremoniously fired.”

“Walter Steele? When ‘looking into it’ involves hacking into federal agencies, we kind of know about it.”

“Oh, right. Sorry about that, I thought I hid my tracks better. He was just…nice to me. Walter was a good person, and his disappearance doesn’t deserve to be swept under the rug.”

“How about a trial period then? We track down Walter together and if everything goes okay, then you’ll work for ARGUS full-time.”

“I didn’t know mysterious top-secret government agencies did temps.”

“Well, I think an exception can be made.”

“Okay, so if for some reason I actually agree to this, what’s ARGUS’s policy on office dating? Unless I’m totally just imagining this.” She gestured between them. “In which case, I’m going to go crawl in a hole and die.”

“Felicity, you're not imagining anything,” he paused, probably to let the statement sink in for both of them but really Felicity felt like she was floating. “ARGUS actually encourages it. When you spend your whole life lying to people, keeping secrets, it’s nice to be with someone you can trust and be honest with.”

“Ah, so you just want me for my body.”

“I want you for your incredible brain and amazing abilities. Any uh, physical attraction, is just a plus.”

“I know, it’s just nice to hear you say that.”

“So you’ll think about it?” 

“Mhmm.”

They both leaned in closer, faces nearly touching.

“But I’ll need to know things like healthcare, employee benefits, flight accommodations. Once you get a taste of first class—” Felicity was the one who closed the distance, capturing his lips and resting one hand on his elbow.

Oliver seemed surprised at first but then he started to kiss back, setting a slow and languid pace, hands tentatively cupping her face.

 _Oh no you don’t, this is my kiss buster_. Felicity changed the pace to be almost unbearably hot and fast, her hands running through Oliver’s hair, moving down to his chest, and his hands moving up to thread through her hair.

It took the table nearly falling over for the two of them to stop, panting heavily.

“I’ve thought about it, and the answer is yes.” Felicity pulled out her cell phone. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a phone call to go make.”

She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and strolled out onto the balcony.

While closing the balcony door, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oliver slump down in his chair, still in shock.

Maybe her mother was right about the Smoak charm after all.

 

* * *

 

“Twelve minutes!” Felicity called out as she double-checked the explosives, and the team started running.

“Don’t worry Felicity, you’ll be behind a desk,” she muttered as bullets whizzed past her. Oliver started running alongside her, blocking her body with his larger frame, and he shot back at the guards with one hand, the other holding up an unconscious Walter Steele.

Felicity let out a cry of alarm as they came to a halt in front of a man holding a Desert Eagle, right in front of the elevator. He suddenly crumpled to the ground and Sara stepped out of the shadows, looking far too pleased with herself, and picked him up in a fireman’s carry.

The team quickly filed into the elevator, and Felicity willed it to go faster. “You’ll be in no danger at all.”

Oliver turned to face her. “Felicity, this was your idea.”

The doors pinged open, and they ran out into the lobby. Twelve guns were swiftly trained on them.

_Six minutes._

Laurel let out a cry that her sonic device amplified, knocking the mooks over. She kicked a gun out of the hand of one of the few left standing and yelled at him to leave.

Felicity hurriedly pressed the intercom button on the front desk. “This is the last time I will say this! This place will explode! Leave, now, or you’ll die horribly and it’ll be kind of a bummer for everyone. You’ve got five minutes left!”

She let go of the button as Diggle (who was carrying three people) yelled at her to start moving.

_Four minutes._

The mooks in the lobby still could not seem to take a hint, and Felicity was forced to knock one of them out with one of the fancy lobby decorative sculptures. Thea grabbed him, and the team sprinted out the door.

_Two minutes._

“Get in, get in!” Roy shouted as they scrambled inside the van. Once they were all at least inside he floored it, and Felicity kept glancing nervously between her timer and the building they were just in.

_Ten seconds._

Felicity looked back up just in time to see the building explode in flames.

“That was probably not one of my better plans,” Felicity admitted.

“We have hostages, took down a critical player, rescued Mr. Steele, and everyone came out okay. You did good, Smoak,” Diggle said.

“Okay, but if I suggest we blow up the Grand Canyon next, you guys should probably stop me.”

Everyone laughed, and it felt like home.

 

Felicity woke to find herself sleeping on a very solid, very human pillow. She burrowed into Oliver and smiled.

Everyone else had taken the private ARGUS jet back to HQ, but Felicity and Oliver had insisted on first class on a commercial plane because it was kind of their thing. Besides, that tiny jet would have been crowded with the whole team and captured mooks.

(“You guys are disgusting,” Thea had told them the first time they did this. The rest of the team nodded in agreement, but Felicity and Oliver were too busy exchanging lovesick glances to care.)

Felicity could feel Oliver waking up, so she pulled back to look at him. He opened his eyes, and they smiled at each other.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“That I’m really glad you officially dropped the whole temp pretense.”

“It wasn’t a pretense! A Smoak sticks to her word. I said I was a temp until we found Walter, and we have. So now, full time.”

“Felicity, you’ve been a temp for two years.”

“Well, we should have found him faster. Merlyn Global kidnapping him should have been a pretty obvious conclusion because that was a straight-up Macbeth power play. But he’s safe now. We’re safe now. Go team.” She did an awkward fist pump that years ago would have made her want to die of embarrassment, but now she didn’t care.

Oliver made a noise of agreement and kissed her.    

First class bliss, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> After taking almost two years, it's kind of funny that the hardest part to write has been this author's note. Most of the fic has been completed for a while now, but I've never been satisfied with it, incessantly tinkering with passages and sentences. I've definitely learned a lesson in just accepting writing can never be exactly what you want, and the importance of deadlines. Still, I've learned a lot from this fic and had a great time writing it, so I'm really glad I didn't give up on it. Thank you so much for reading it!


End file.
